


The vastness of the abyss

by Alterkrmn



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Space Husbands, old married spirk, spirk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alterkrmn/pseuds/Alterkrmn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’ve decided to post the first chapter of this thing, otherwise it won’t leave my drafts folder ever. </p>
<p>I want to thank <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk">plaidshirtjimkirk</a> for helping me with the beta, for her infinite patience and support, and for being the biggest inspiration I know for Old Married Spirk (and space husbands tbh).</p>
<p>Comments are always appreciated.</p>
<p>Thank you for reading.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The vastness of the abyss

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve decided to post the first chapter of this thing, otherwise it won’t leave my drafts folder ever. 
> 
> I want to thank [plaidshirtjimkirk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk) for helping me with the beta, for her infinite patience and support, and for being the biggest inspiration I know for Old Married Spirk (and space husbands tbh).
> 
> Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading.

"Parted from me and never parted..."

The words reverberate loudly in his head and the sensation of a hand touching his face fades while his eyes open, little by little to the darkness of the room; immediately, he decides to close them again trying desperately to hold on to the last moments of the dream.

He extends an arm to the left side of the bed, looking for something... for someone who is not there. He blinks rapidly and shakes his head suddenly feeling a bit anxious. Eyes wide open now with his pupils adjusting to the darkness , he wonders where Spock could be at this hour of the night, until he sees the pale green numbers of the clock over the bedside table.

The glowing digits indicate the time is five in the morning and relief replaces the sudden—and mostly unjustified—restlessness when he realizes his bondmate is in the usual corner of the room: still, quiet, and perfectly beautiful while meditating as he had done since his father taught him as a child.

Jim remains silent and gets out of the bed, stretching his arms and unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn to avoid distracting Spock; however, just like every morning, he fails. Spock  opens his eyes, stands, and walks across the room, greeting Jim tenderly with a soft touch of the two first fingers grazing over the back of his hand.

"Good morning, Jim." Those words precede the kiss on the lips, just as soft as the other one he gave in Vulcan style. Jim smiles, pleased.

"Hey", he answers in a whisper as he inhales deeply the well known fragrance emanating from Spock's skin and hair. "You always smell so good..."

Jim’s voice is deep and lazy, like he's falling asleep again, but it is the peace of the moment—the ineffable happiness of having the certainty that he will be able to spend another day with the love of his life.

"Your scent is also very pleasant to me."

The reply is delivered  in a stoic tone that could fool anyone but Kirk, who has learned to recognize every nuance—even the most subtle change—in the tone of Spock’s voice. He knows that behind that seemingly dispassionate short sentence, there’s a deep love and desire too. He can feel  it, vibrating between them like the sound waves of a beautiful symphony that crash and shake every cell of their bodies. Reveling in the feeling,  Jim smiles again.

***

It is Sunday, and even when there aren't tasks that require them to be up so early, they live in the rhythm and patterns they’d gotten used to a long time ago. And so, the first ritual of the day begins; they go to the terrace and watch the sun rise until the water of the bay reflects the golden rays of sunshine. Jim wraps his arm around Spock's slim waist, and he holds tightly to the warm hand placed over his hip bone.

The air is still a little bit cold and Spock tries not to shiver but Jim knows better. "Let's go inside. I don't know about you but I'm starving." He turns just slightly and rearranges Spock's robe collar to help keep him warm enough, and immediately leads him into the apartment .

Jim has always had a soft spot for homemade food and after all those years aboard a starship having to eat replicator quality dishes, he makes great efforts for getting fresh groceries. When his time allows it, he likes going to the market and seeing the colors of the well-known terran fruits and vegetables, exploring the smell, flavor and texture of new alien ones and finally putting them in the shopping bag and to take them  home while Spock walks by his side .

This morning , Jim goes to the kitchen, thinking about the ingredients he will require for the meal and chooses some fruit, Spock's favorite tea and the freshly baked bread delivered to their door. Soon the house is flooded with the smell of the breakfast, carefully cooked by Jim.

Spock sets the table neatly, with the same care he puts adjusting his lab instruments . Then they eat calmly, taking their time to enjoy every bit and sip, while exchanging  loving glances and soft touches of two fingers over two fingers ... even a kiss in the cheek every now and then.

Everything is like any other quiet weekend, far away from the crowded halls of the Academy or the tons of paperwork at the Vulcan Embassy, but somehow this specific morning, Jim seems somewhat apprehensive and Spock cannot help but feeling it through the bond.

"Something is bothering you." It is not a question but a statement, and the dark eyebrows that usually ascend because of amusement or amazement, narrow in a gesture of deep concern.

"No," Jim says almost automatically and then rectifies, "Kind of..." He  does not like lying to Spock, but does not elaborate more on his answer. He remains silent for a moment, biting his lower lip, and sighs when Spock does not say anything.  "I know hunches are illogical, but if not for Bones, I would just rather stay inside and let the world fall apart out there. I feel that would be better... I just don't know why".

"Hmm,"  Spock analyzed  Jim's reply. "You know I would be the first to comply with your desire, but I must also point out that it is Doctor McCoy's birthday and the consequences of not attending would be disastrous, given his temperament," t here was affection in his voice, accompanied by a little smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about!, He's a sweetheart," Jim laughed and the heaviness in his chest eased a little. "As always, my love, you're right." He hit his thighs with his hands, got up from his chair and walked behind Spock. He then planted a kiss on his head and wrapped his arms around his husband's neck, warmly. "You're always right, Mister Spock."


End file.
